


May The Goddess Grant You Strength For Your Day

by peacefulboo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Injury Recovery, Ritual Healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3180140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You will not die,” Lexa orders her lips inches away from Anya’s ear. Her voice is commanding and angry, but even in her semi-conscious state, Anya can hear the undercurrent of fear. “You will not die.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	May The Goddess Grant You Strength For Your Day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off a prompt by bravenlarked over on tumblr for More Joy Day 2015! I enjoyed writing it quite a lot. These two are amazing characters to explore and I hope to do more of it in the future. I did have a fever while I was writing it and while I was editing it and have chosen to still not have a second person beta it. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

“You will not die,” Lexa orders her lips inches away from Anya’s ear. Her voice is commanding and angry, but even in her semi-conscious state, Anya can hear the undercurrent of fear. “You will not die.”

Anya has lost more blood than she should be able to spare and she is tired. She had believed her fight was over, but if her Commander bids her to live, then live she will. But first she’ll sleep.

***

When she comes to consciousness again, it’s to Lexa’s murmured prayers to the Goddess and her hands hovering over the worst of Anya’s wounds. Lexa has always had more faith in the Goddess than Anya, but Anya doesn’t begrudge her the comfort. She’s alive after all. Who’s to say that the Goddess didn’t have a hand in that. 

Anya must groan or move because Lexa’s eyes snap open and her hands drop to brush along Anya’s cheek bones and mouth. 

“You will not die,” Lexa commands again. 

“I will not die today,” Anya amends, her throat dry and her voice rough and weak, but concedes the point. 

There is no weeping, no tears of joy at her recovery. But Lexa is by her side as much as her duties allow. Anya often falls asleep to Lexa’s recounting of her day and wakes with Lexa’s hands curled loosely around her good hand. 

Six days after she wakes the first time, Nyko and Lexa’s healer Gratia release her to recover in their quarters. She’s given leave to move about much of the day, but they insist she always be accompanied by an escort. 

She’s given a long, intricately carved staff to steady her and she hates it. Lexa glares at her anytime she tries to leave it behind and gives orders to the guards to not let her leave their quarters without it. 

Anya takes to sitting and watching the youngest warriors as they learn and work through their spear throwing drills. There are 8 females and 6 males in this cohort, all under ten years old. She feels a sadness as she watches them that she hasn’t felt in a decade. Her eyes immediately find Jana -- Lexa’s first, and likely only, progeny -- and watches how she struggles to even lift the beginner spears. She’s a small child but she’s mighty. She’s serious and focused but occasionally clumsy. She’s more suited to running and evasion than what their master has them working on now, but she has a fierce work ethic and is determined to make The Commander proud. 

The cohort switches from spear throwing to fighting each other with a bo staffs. It’s a strong group, likely elevated by having The Commander’s daughter in their midst. Jana is, perhaps, even less suited to this style of fighting than the spears but her speed helps her evade most hits. 

Jana is partnered against Tes, the one most likely to become Anya’s new apprentice. Tes is tall and reed thin. She’s a little slow but her long wiry muscles are strong and what she lacks in speed, she makes up in brute force. She lands three major blows that will have Jana wincing in pain for the rest of the day. Jana lands only one but it’s to the back of her opponent’s knee and is strong enough to bring her to the ground. Anya manages to smile at that. 

After they are dismissed Anya calls the two young warriors over to where she’s sitting and gives critiques their fight. Both girls stare at her with the same serious, almost reverent stares and seem to do their best to absorb every word she says. She dismisses them both with a soft cuff to the back of their heads and a kiss to their brows. 

“Go now and see the witch. Be well. May the Goddess grant you strength for your day.” Her clan learned long ago that every parting needs to be treated as a potential final parting. 

“Be well, Anya. May the goddess grant you strength for your day,” the two girls (for in this moment they are girls more than warriors) reply with shy smiles. They both place a parting kiss to Anya’s fingers before running off hand-in-hand to see Gratia and get their arnica rations for their newly forming bruises. 

Anya is frustrated by how weary she feels after only a few hours of sitting in the shade watching others learn to fight and to kill. She slowly makes her way back to her quarters, her escort following a few paces behind, and wants nothing more than to sleep again, but instead picks up her knife and the wood she’s been working with and begins to carve a sturdy but intricate handle for a new bone knife. 

She hopes this is not all she will be good for going forward. 

Lexa returns to their quarters with extra bruises on her hands. The Commander is a warrior but has rarely seen battle in the last year. She is a thinker more than a fighter. Swift and flexible - Jana takes after her in this - and brutal as any other when necessary, but she was bred to lead, not to fight. 

“The leaders of the Sky People will arrive at first light tomorrow. We will plan our assault on the Mountain Men. I would like you to be there.”

Anya can hardly suppress a growl when Anya mentions the Sky People. They are a reckless, reactionary people. They seem incapable of reason, constantly blinded by their mindless panic. She has little hope that they will be an asset in this fight. 

“We can benefit from their guns, but I fear their stupidity will kill us all,” Anya replies. She’ll attend the meeting, though. The Mountain must be destroyed and her people freed. She has no doubt that dozens more have died or become monsters since she has slept and healed. It’s time for that to end. 

“They are desperate. Like us,” Lexa replies. She’s removed her outer cloak and most of her adornment. Anya stands to assist her with removing the rest of her clothing. 

“They are desperate, but they are not like us,” Anya says as she makes quick work of untying the knots that keep Lexa’s shift secure. 

“Still. They will die to save their people. Same as our warriors,” Lexa replies, turning so she’s facing Anya now. Her shift falls to the floor leaving her naked.

She in turn helps Anya remove her tunic and leads her to their bed. 

“Will you be there tomorrow to plan?” Lexa asks as she helps Anya lower herself onto the bed and settle in amongst the pelts they have piled there. Lexa kneels above her before ducking down and dropping a kiss to Anya’s jaw line.

“I will,” Anya agrees. She turns and butts her head softly against Lexa’s cheek. 

“Good. You are needed,” Lexa replies before kissing Anya’s mouth, slow and gentle but not without heat. 

Lexa moves to kiss her neck, causing Anya to shiver, and then methodically, slowly, torturously, moves to kiss her way down toward Anya’s breasts, nipping first at the tops and then at the undersides, teasing but not without sting. Anya’s body flushes in response, and she see’s Lexa’s smile, pleased with the response. 

As she moves back up to kiss Anya full on the mouth again, Anya brings her hands up to skate along Lexa’s flank. She’s rewarded with a small, high laugh and Lexa flinching away. 

They spend the evening kissing and touching and reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies. They catalogue the new scars and scrapes and bruises. And bullet wounds. They make each other moan and keen, their lips and tongues used as much as fingers to worship each other and the Goddess. Lexa recites prayers and Anya silently affirms them. 

“You will not die,” Lexa states again once they’re sated and their eyes are heavy and sleep begins to overtake them.

“I will not die today,” Anya replies, pressing a kiss to the skin above Lexa’s breast and then allowing herself fall asleep.


End file.
